


Fortunate day

by Liryczna



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Randomness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liryczna/pseuds/Liryczna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do not look under your bed. Do not check the door. There is nothing to be afraid of.<br/>Your fear changes nothing.<br/>Welcome to Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortunate day

Do not look under your bed. Do not check the door. There is nothing to be afraid of.

Your fear changes nothing.

_Welcome to Night Vale._

 

Dear listeners, today we shall begin with glorious news! Our favourite time-travelling couple once again visited our beautiful city. Old woman Josie, out near the car lot, just called in to report that their travel machine of choice, a blue police telephone box from 1960s Britain, is now parked right in front of her door. The angels, which I am not supposed to know, think or speak about - just as all of you, listeners, because they do not exist - seem quite agitated by the sight of the machine. Erika, the black one, as Josie helpfully clarified, even tried to get into the box, but to no avail. Listeners, it always bothered me why people, other conscious individuals, or groups of symbiotic persons never give up. There is simply no point in doing that, we all know that it is blocked to all of us, we all tried at least once. Just because someone is a divine entity that is not supposed to exist and in fact does not, it does not mean that there are any privileges when it comes to space-time voyages. That would be simply unfair. There is always a blue door that is closed to us, but open to others, who are maybe more worthy, or maybe just lucky enough. The remedy is to think about other doors in our lives, doors that will remain closed, when they should, or windows that open to allow us secret and unnoticed exit. Look at the bright side, Night Vale!  But only with the protective glasses and not for an extensive period of time.

 

And now...  Let’s take a look at traffic.

There are places, where the sky is blue and the birds sing and do not circle above your head in their search for  prey. There are places, where the water is overflowing, and the green grass grows beneath the feet. Those are very big feet. There will never be a shoe big enough for them.

There are places, where ducks exist.

This has been traffic.

 

Oh, thank you! Listeners, our new intern John, who has a magnificent moustache, just brought me news that the City Council released a statement, mere minutes ago!, to remind all citizens, that the police telephone box is their property and should not be in any way damaged, or moved from the restricted area of the car lot. By no means should the box fall into the hand of the angels. Not our angels, who do not exist, they specified. Other angels that look like statues and sometimes move when you look away. Do not look away. Look away and you are dead! They added, after a moment of consternation, that any and all genocides committed on the premises of the city should be reported to them with no more than a week of delay. All appropriate forms are available at hand in the bloodstone circle near the Dog Park that no one is supposed to talk about. Those who fail to turn the forms on time will be never seen again. Also, the balloons are no longer banned as the threat of the living plastic apparently diminished. Our life once again becomes as ordinary as a birthday party, so not so much at all.

 

Let us go now to the Community Calendar.

On Tuesday nothing remarkable will happen. The work, the school, and the routes taken by the helicopters above will be the average of the year that passed us by without our knowledge of the time that we will never get back. There will be no misery on that day, but no joy either. It will be completely average in every aspect of this word. It is advised not to die on Tuesday, as the souls of the deceased will be stuck forever in the ever growing despair of the limbo between life and death. Also, do not eat ice-cream, it might taste awful.

Wednesday is a Day of Happiness. All citizens are advised to stay indoors and barricade themselves if possible. Do not let anyone in, even when they are wearing a face you once knew. Especially then. If they get into your home: run.

On Friday there will be a Bake Show in the Night Vale Community College.  All persons in attendance are expected to leave a small donation to help the poorest of the students.

This has been the Community Calendar.

 

Now, dear listeners, we go back to our story of the day! John Peters, you know, the farmer?, has just sent in a word that our favourite time-travelers were spotted on a date in the Big Rico’s Pizza. The lady, whose hair are apparently just as marvellous as they were before, ordered a bottle of champagne and a bowl of strawberries. The man however, or the one we assume to be male, demanded to be served fish fingers and custard. How extraordinary. John reports that he had seen our beautiful, perfect scientist, Carlos, as he attempted to start a conversation with the newcomers. He asked them, our perfect, brave Carlos, of course he did, how it was possible to break away from the Einstein’s law of relativity in order to travel backwards in time without ripping a hole in the fabric of the universe. The male traveler, who goes by the name Doctor, explained that he did indeed ripped a few holes here and there, but all of them were River’s fault. Then they proceeded to talk science and boy, was it entertaining. John said that he saw them last when they exited the Big Rico’s Pizza and went in the direction of the car lot, all the while talking animatedly.

 

Now, a word from our sponsors!

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TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS.

 

Oh. Dear listeners… Oh, it might have been wrong of me to state that the arrival of the time-travelers was so fortunate. Oh. Old woman Josie called us moments ago with the news that the mysterious blue police telephone box disappeared from her doorway along with our dear, beloved, perfect scientist. Carlos, as always brave and curious, apparently entered the box out of his own, free will and when it dematerialized, he vanished too, never to be seen again. Oh, listeners!  How cruel is, this life that takes away our most precious and urges them down the road that we cannot follow! How cruel indeed. Although my heart is shattered, the time moves on, as slow and unpredictable as always. And, just as it was: a little beyond our reach. So let me ease this pain for a little while at least… with the Weather.

 

[[Weather](http://youtu.be/sCW4JrP1_Mg).]

 

_Vvorp, vvorp, vvorp…_

\- Hello! Is it working…? Yes, okay.  Hello, Night Vale! Doctor here, just a little, teeny-weeny bit of you attention, listeners! As you might have noticed, we kind of kidnapped…

\- Borrowed, dear.

\- Yes, borrowed. Oh, I like the word borrowed.

\- I thought you might.

\- Yes… Yes, where was I? Oh, that’s right, we kind of had to borrow your scientist and, well, radio host? For a while. Nothing major, nothing to be worried about, nothing like a big, horrifying end of the world… Just a little trip, really, a bit of texting and scones, maybe, if they want to, no pressure.

\- Sweetie.

\- Point is, they will be back in a moment, well, maybe a few, a couple of hours, really, but as for now… Goodnight, Night Vale! (Oh, I have always wanted to say that…)


End file.
